


Fleeting Encounters

by lolzor1



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hogwarts Eighth Year, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Light Angst, M/M, My First Fanfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 15:51:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6664774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lolzor1/pseuds/lolzor1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco couldn’t remember exactly when it all started, but he was sure it began with fleeting moments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fleeting Encounters

Draco couldn’t remember exactly when it all started, but he was sure it began with fleeting moments. 

As Hogwarts opened its doors once again to those who would like to resume the education after the war, Draco took the chance even though he knew that all he would receive were heated glares and curses at every turn. 

Walking the halls hit Draco with a wave of nostalgia. At every turn, memories flooded his mind, reminding him of simpler times, times without war, times when he was still the insufferable spoiled brat everyone knew him to be. He should have found the memories comforting but all it did was send a wave of panic across his body, which seemed second nature to him by now.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, he was suddenly aware of the loud whispers following him as he set off to the potions classroom.

“-definitely asking for a black eye, thinking of returning here.”  
“They really shouldn’t let death eaters into Hogwarts.”  
“Honestly, what was Mcgonagall thinking?”

He desperately wanted to retort but he didn't want a stinging hex to the face this early on. God, people have no lives. 

He paid no heed to the whispers whatsoever and breathed deeply. He was resolved to lie low and stay as invisible as possible this year. After all, it was his last year at this hellhole and when he gets through this, he won't have to come back again. What could possibly go wrong? 

He gathered that he apparently said that too soon. Something could definitely go wrong. Especially if you're Draco Malfoy, death eater extraordinaire, and you're paired with Harry fucking Potter, the boy who lived to be irritating as hell, at potions. It would help if he remained as the annoying prat who glared at him at every possible moment. But no, this Harry Potter just had the gall to actually attempt to strike up a conversation with said death eater extraordinaire, with a glint of something very akin to pity in his eyes. 

It would also be very much help if he wasn't actually bollocks at potions. 

"Potter, if that's you trying to actually be nice to me, I would like it very much if you were to stop. I don't need your pity," he said as Potter attempted to horribly ruin their potion. God that would have to be the longest thing he said to someone this whole year. 

"I don't pity you Malfoy. And that wasn't me trying to be nice. That was me trying to be civil. And I'd say, it was a good attempt at striking up a conversation, seeing that that was probably the longest thing you've ever said to anyone this year," he said as Draco tried to remedy the potion by adding powdered roots of asphodel. Damn Potter's new-found observation skills. 

"Well Potter, what exactly did you want to strike a conversation with me of all people?" he asked, feeling slightly bothered at his meager tone. 

"Like I said, I wanted to be civil. I'm getting really tired of all this hostility between us through the years, and honestly, you acting like a kicked puppy all the time does not help at all," Potter replied with a smirk. 

"I do not act like a kicked puppy," he said with the best glare he could muster. 

To his surprise, Potter started laughing. He stared at Draco weirdly and suddenly put out his hand. Draco looked at it for a second and glanced at the other boy with a confused gaze. 

Harry, noticing Draco's confusion quickly retorted, "This is me offering you friendship Malfoy, or at least a truce." 

"A truce," Draco glanced at the boy with doubt evident on his face. 

"Yeah, a truce," the other boy replied with a smile and an assuring nod. Draco didn't know what had taken over him at the moment. He must have gone crazy because he went ahead and took Potter's hand. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The fleeting moments began just then. Along with the hateful glares cast at him along the halls, and in classes, he could feel another gaze on him occasionally. Although this one wasn't hateful at all. When he meets the occasional gaze, he isn't surprised to see that it was always Harry Potter who directs these looks at him. And every time, he merely nods in response. 

At potions, Potter always attempts to strike up friendly conversation. He finds it strange that Potter could just throw away years of animosity to attempt to befriend the boy who basically made his life at Hogwarts as difficult as possible, instead of just mocking and sneering at him like other people. And Draco is surprised to find himself actually liking the company.

Of course, Potter doesn't just stop there. After all, the savior of the wizarding world doesn't just do things half-arsed. Oh no. He just found Draco wherever he went, however unusual the place.

Harry would approach him in the 8th year common room, ever ready with an interesting topic and an inviting smile. Harry would find him in the kitchens when he finds eating in the great hall unbearable, finding the heated glares directed to him be too much. 

At some points in their unusual encounters, Harry would find him the abandoned third floor corridor whenever he feels a wave of panic and anxiety so strong, he finds himself shaking, wand pointed at his wrists, a spell on his lips and pain along his left arm, where the madman left his mark. Harry would always find him and somehow at the very end of every fleeting encounter, he always made Draco feel alright. 

He felt terrified with this change, with this new unusual addition to his somewhat messed up life. He never once considered Harry as his friend. But now that he'd thought of it, just when did Potter become Harry? 

Just then did he feel so terrified. Change wasn't something that was always welcome in Draco Malfoy's life. His life has changed so much over the course of 18 years and he didn't think he could even cope. At all. Not anymore. God, he was fucked up. He was okay with a megalomaniac turning his home into a nightmare but the thought of being friends with the golden boy messed him up? 

He was going mad. And seriously, this shouldn't even be his priority right now. He's here to get a decent education, to get outstanding marks, to actually have a decent future and repair the Malfoy name, not become a sudden charity case. What happened to lying low and becoming invisible?

He found himself shaking so badly. He found it hard to breathe. Suddenly, getting out of the castle became his first priority. He dashed out of the doors and was pleased to see buckets of rain pouring from the sky. The night was painted silver and black and the cold seemingly seeped into his bones. At least the weather sympathizes with me. He laughed at the thought. 

He walked to the Quidditch pitch and sat on the damp grass. He felt pellets of rain hit his face. He didn't know exactly when he started to cry. All he knew was that the hot liquid flowing down his cheeks is definitely not rain. 

He tried so hard over the past year not to break down like this. Why is the thought of Harry Potter's supposed friendship too much to handle to the point of a complete mental break down? 

He didn't know how long he sat there, shaking, drenched and bawling his eyes out as everything that happened in the past year fucked with his mind. All he knows is that Harry Potter found him once again, this time in the middle of a field, drenched and shaking and crying and in pain. He sat down next to Draco and held him in his arms. Too much. God, this was too much. 

Draco couldn’t remember the last time he had been this utterly terrified. 

He wasn’t this terrified when he felt the first pulse of blinding pain as he received the mark of a madman, beginning the downward spiral that would become his foreseeable future. He wasn’t this terrified when he felt the first stroke of panic as he stood that night at the astronomy tower, doubting, hesitating. He certainly wasn’t this terrified when he felt relief for the first time in months when he realized that the flash of green that killed Albus Dumbledore did not come from his wand, knowing that he had failed and his fate was sealed. 

For fuck’s sake the war seemed like an utter joke compared to this.

Because in that moment, when the night was painted silver and black, as the rain poured and the wind bellowed, and his demons brought out the worst moments of his life, something even more absurd happened. More absurd than Harry wanting to be his friend. More absurd than the thought that it was Harry Potter, of all people, who always managed to find Draco at his worst. 

He fell in love. 

Surprisingly, he didn’t find that hard to believe. At this moment, as his demons were choking him from within, as guilt flooded his mind, as he curled up shaking and afraid, Harry remained. Harry grounded him to reality and gave him the slightest hope for the future. Harry became the only constant in this complete mess he called his life. 

And as Draco rested his head on Harry's shoulder, as Harry whispered that everything was going to be all right, Draco found comfort for the first time in the past year. And he didn't care that he would possibly be judged and despised even more. He didn’t care that he was probably going to face complete and utter rejection for his new-found feelings. 

All he cared about was this instant of rain and silver and black, with a warm body pressed against him. And he hoped that this wouldn't just be a fleeting moment.


End file.
